A Conspiracy of Ravens (11 page)

SIX

H
ave you ever ridden to the hounds, Mr. Tremayne?” Dylan had joined the guests out near the stables. He had been invited to take part in the fox hunt, but now a dubious look crossed his face. His ears were filled with the yapping of some forty dogs kept in check by Rupert, and he shook his head, “No, sir, I have ridden but never chasing a fox.”

“An exciting sport, sir. Very exciting.” Lord Edward’s eyes were bright, and he touched the tall top hat that all the hunters wore, men and women. “I love to hunt the partridge in September and pheasants in October, but when November rolls around I’m ready to mount my favourite steed and make a dash across the fields after the sly foxes.”

Dylan rubbed his chin hesitantly. “I’m afraid I’ve got too much of the peasant in me, Lord Darby. When I hunted as a boy with my father, it was always something to eat, a rabbit or even a wild pig, but never a fox.”

Lord Darby found this amusing. “Really? I’m not interested in catching the fox. It’s just the chase. As a matter of fact, hunting foxes wasn’t a sport at all for many years. Foxes were regarded as vermin who destroyed livestock, and a bounty was put on their heads in Elizabethan days. But the deer became scarce and trees were felled for fuel and there weren’t enough deer to hunt. So, the aristocracy decided to hunt foxes instead.” He glanced over the crowd with a look of satisfaction. “Foxes are fast as well as tricky. We’ve had to breed new hounds to track them for sport.”

“It seems quite exciting,” Dylan said. “I don’t quite understand how it works.”

“Oh, it’s simple enough. Early in the morning we send people out to block the holes in the hunt area. That’s to stop them from returning to their dens. They’re nocturnal animals, you understand. Then the next step is what we’re doing right now. All of the sportsmen, plus the hounds, are gathered together to meet under the supervision of the master. That’s me in this case. The next thing is to locate a fox. Usually someone will find one hidden in a thicket, and the hounds are sent in to flush him out into the open. Then we’ll all call out, ‘Tally ho!’ And off we go.”

“Sounds like jolly good fun.”

“Well, the idea is simply to gallop across country and have a good time. It’s a little dangerous. The horses have to jump fences and streams. People have been seriously hurt, but you can’t live in a cave and be small.”

“What happens when you catch the fox?”

“Oh, the hounds kill him. They customarily devour him except for his tail, which we call his brush, and his mask, which is his head and the paws. They’re awarded as trophies.” Rupert approached and said, “The dogs are getting nervous, Edward. Are you about ready?”

“Is everyone here, Rupert?”

“All except St. John. He got drunk last night and probably has a hangover. He and Arthur, I think, got drunk together. I think you ought to crack down on both of them. They need to show more respect for the family.”

Edward suddenly frowned and turned to face Rupert. “I know they’re weak, both of them, Rupert, but I think it would be a good thing if you showed a little more compassion to your brother and your nephew.”

Rupert frowned, and the scowl marred his face. “They get the compassion they deserve.”

Rupert turned away, and Gervase and Serafina arrived, Serafina riding a pretty little high-bred chestnut mare and Gervase a bay mare of about the same size. Gervase glanced at Dylan and moved her horse closer.

“Are you ready for the hunt, Dylan?” She was, indeed, a pretty thing. Her colour was heightened, and her back was fine and straight. She sat on her horse with unconscious grace. Her dress was a blue habit with white cuffs and lapels, and in some ingenious way, she had drawn her hair up under a dashing tricorne with a tight curl of oyster feathers.

“I don’t know if I belong in this particular activity.” Dylan smiled. “I’ll probably fall off.”

“You wouldn’t be the first one,” Serafina said. “Just hang on.”

Edward nudged his horse closer and began speaking to Serafina. “I understand you are being courted by Sir Alex Bolton.”

“Oh, yes, he’s going through all his potential wives in alphabetical order to find what suits his taste. It’s not serious.”

Edward drew closer still. He put his hand out and touched her arm with affection. “I wish you would marry, Serafina. You’re young enough to have more children.”

Dylan was watching the earl’s face and saw sadness in it. It came to Dylan that the nobleman was grieving over his own childless condition. He moved away so that he would not hear the rest of the conversation. If he had remained, he would have heard Lord Darby say, “What about Tremayne?”

“Well, what about him?”

“Well, I saw how you were jealous of the attention Irene Tiller-man paid to him at the ball. You had a proprietary air.”

“Nonsense! He can take care of himself with women like that. I think it’s disgraceful the way women pursue him.”

“Even you?”

“Certainly not me! He’s been good to David. He saved his life, as I’ve told you.”

“Well, Serafina, marriages have been made on worse grounds than that.”

“Don’t be silly, Sir Edward. I’m not interested in anything like that.”

“Well then . . . let’s begin.”

The hounds located a fox almost immediately, and the action began at once. Serafina stayed beside Edward while Dylan fell back, and Gervase rode beside him. It was an exciting chase, sure enough. Dylan was not used to such a spirited horse, and it was all he could do to keep his seat. Finally he slowed down, and Gervase slowed with him. “Do you like this sort of thing, Gervase?”

“Oh, I love riding. I don’t need a fox to make it worth my while. I come out almost every day for a nice ride.” She looked at him and said, “I’ve decided I like you very much, Tremayne.”

Dylan was taken off guard by her frankness. He turned and asked with some alarm, “You’re not falling in love with me, are you?”

“Not a bit of it, but you’re fun to be with.”

“I’m glad you find me fun, but you need to find a nice earl and marry him.”

“It would be boring, Dylan. All the earls I’ve known have been boring.”

Dylan thought about that and then turned to face her, admiring the colour in her cheeks and her bright eyes. “What about Lady Trent’s former husband?”

Gervase was silent, and the excitement seemed to fade. “He was . . . frightening to me.”

“You were afraid of him?”

“Oh, he never threatened me or anything like that, but there was a dark side to him. I don’t think anyone’s ever found out what went on in their marriage, but Serafina was very unhappy.”

“Yes, I’ve heard a little about that. Well, forget that.” A shout interrupted their talk.

“Here we go. Stay up with me if you can!”

Edward and Serafina led the pack, and they reached a fence. It was not a particularly high fence, and Serafina moved her weight forward to make the jump easier for the horse. She was slightly ahead of Sir Edward, but she heard a muffled cry. She turned around to see that his saddle had slipped, and he was falling. “Sir Edward!” she called out and pulled her horse up beside him, afraid someone would jump the fence and land on him now that his horse had wandered away, stripped of his saddle. Once Serafina saw that the other riders were stopping, she jumped off her horse and ran to him.

Sir Edward was lying on his face, and carefully she rolled him over. He had a terrible bruise on his head; part of the fence, evidently, had struck him on the neck and raked down across his shoulders, tearing his clothing. His eyes were closed, and she took his pulse.

“Is he all right? Is he hurt?” Dismounted riders came crowding around, and Serafina said, “He’s unconscious, but his pulse is strong. I don’t think he’s badly hurt, but we need to get him back to the house and have my father look at him.”

“I’ll go get a wagon,” one of the younger men said and kicked his horse into a dead run.

The hunters all crowded around, and Serafina, still holding his head, said, “Please don’t crowd so close.”

Dylan, however, knelt down on the other side. “What happened?”

“His saddle slipped, I think.”

Gervase joined them and asked, “Is there anything we can do?”

“No, my father will have to look at him.” She held the man’s head tenderly. “Someone go warn Heather, but be calm. He’s not badly hurt.”

Lord Darby was placed on his bed in his room, and Septimus examined him carefully. He looked up with some irritation at the crowd and shooed them out as if they were chickens. “Everyone out,” he said. “Lord Edward is going to be all right.”

Dylan asked, “Do you think he has a concussion?”

“No, I don’t think so. Look, he’s waking up. See his eyes?”

Serafina moved to the other side of the bed, and Dylan and Gervase stayed down at the foot.

“Can you hear me, Lord Darby?” Septimus asked loudly.

Lord Darby moved his head and winced. He reached up, and his eyes opened. He looked confused and said, “I . . . had an accident.”

“Yes, your saddle gave way when you went over the fence. You took quite a fall,” Serafina said. She came over and took his hand, putting her own on his head. “But you’re all right now.”

“I’ll stay with him for a while,” Septimus said. “The rest of you go away, please. He needs the rest.”

Serafina left the room and stood there for a moment thinking. Something troubled her, and she said, “Excuse me, Dylan, I have an errand to run.”

“Of course, Lady Trent.”

Gervase looked after her. “Where is she going?”

“I never know what that woman’s going to do next.”

Serafina left the house and went to the stables. She hailed one of the stablehands and said, “Did you bring Lord Darby’s saddle back?”

“Yes, ma’am, it’s over there. The horse wasn’t hurt badly.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Serafina walked over and took one look at the girth. Her eyes narrowed, and she took a deep breath.

The girth had been cut halfway through, and the other part was ragged where it had not been able to bear the weight of the rider. “Someone cut this on purpose,” Serafina murmured aloud. “Someone tried to kill Lord Darby.”

Slowly she turned and picked up the saddle. It was very light. She carried it away and put it in the carriage that she arrived in. She put it in the baggage section, and then a grim tension came to her mouth as she turned back toward the house.

The guests had all departed by the next day, except Serafina, Matthew, and Dylan. Serafina joined Heather in Edward’s room and inspected the bandage on his neck and the blue bruise on the side of his head. She waited until Heather left, then motioned Inspector Grant over.

“Edward,” she said, “I have some alarming news.”

Edward stared at her. “What sort of news?”

“The fall you had wasn’t an accident.”

“Why, of course it was. The saddle slipped.”

“I found your saddle. The girth was cut in two places. There was just enough of it left intact that it wouldn’t part until a strain was put on it. When you went over the fence, your weight came down and the saddle came off.”

“Oh, I say,” Matthew Grant exclaimed. “That’s bad.”

“I can’t believe it. It was an accident,” Edward insisted.

Serafina started to argue, but she saw that it would be useless. “Be very careful. This is two times that attempts have been made on your life.”

“Oh, you and Heather worry too much, dear. You be off now. I’ll be riding over to see you in the next week or so.”

They left, and Crinshaw, the butler, came to stand beside Lord Darby’s bedside. “You look tired, sir. Let me bring you your drink.” He was a tall, gaunt man with a gentle manner. He had been with the Haydens for fifteen years and was always aware of the earl’s well-being.

“No, not now, Crinshaw. I’m fine. Just bring it to me tonight at the usual time.”

“You need to rest, sir, and your wine always makes you rest.”

It was Crinshaw’s duty to bring Lord Darby a special drink at bedtime. Only the two of them knew the formula that had been passed down from Edward’s father. It was composed of a rare and expensive wine mixed with several strong spices.

“I’ll be fine, Charles. I think I can sleep now.”